


riding in cars

by dansunedisco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Grumpy Derek, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash, Sarcastic Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing moment from Magic Bullet, when Stiles and Derek are waiting for Scott in the jeep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	riding in cars

Wolfsbane leaks up Derek’s veins like molasses and Stiles turns on the radio.

The beat crackling through the speakers is familiar, but the tinny overlay pierces Derek’s ears, rattles inside his head and shreds his focus. His control is slippery, like the blood oozing out the bullet wound in his arm. It doesn’t take much before his claws come out and dig into faux leather. The foam cushion underneath shreds in his grip and Stiles whacks at Derek’s shoulder with an indignant squawk. 

“Dude,” he shrills, “get your freaky _claws_ out of my pristine interior! Armor All isn’t gonna to fix that, you douche. You’re paying to get my baby reupholstered, and—ugh, is that blood?” 

“Stiles,” Derek snaps, “turn the music off. Right. Now.” 

Stiles just looks at him for a long moment, mouth agape, and then he reaches forward to turn the dial up like the inconsiderate brat he is. The radio blasts a piano riff reaching its jaunty crescendo and Derek growls, briefly considers punching his fist through the dashboard to get some quiet. Before he can curl his hand together, Stiles phone buzzes and he reaches over to flick the radio off.

“ _Still at Allison’s. Be there soon_ ,” he reads, exhales noisily and slumps into his seat. “Scott, buddy, you are really screwing me over right now."

“When is soon?” Derek hisses. He doesn’t have much longer to go before his body stops fighting the poison trying desperately to reach his heart. Four hours, if he’s lucky, and Derek is never that. The Alpha is still running wild, Laura is still dead, and he’s about to join her because some teenage Beta can’t get his act together. “Ask him.”

Stiles glares, then furiously taps away at his cell. “Dear Scott, creeper werewolf is demanding your presence. His putrid stench increases by the minute. Hurry.”

Scott doesn’t reply. When Stiles calls ten minutes later, it goes straight to voicemail, and Derek starts considering his other option: amputation. He pulls his sleeve back and traces the purple branches furling out from the bullet wound with his eyes. They’ve already crawled to mid-bicep. He tugs his sleeve down and tries not to panic, fights the bile rising in his throat.

Stiles thumps his head against the headrest and gestures towards his dashboard. “So what’s with you and the radio hate?” 

Derek raises his eyebrows. He hopes his annoyance comes across in full force. “What?” he asks flatly.

“You flipped,” he says slowly, “when I turned the music on.”

“We were doing so well with the silence,” he spits from clenched teeth.

Stiles opens his mouth to retort, something snappy and sarcastic for sure, but Derek growls and punches the radio back on before he can. “Just, be quiet,” he says, and silently prays Scott is pulling through for him.


End file.
